Highschool. I wouldn’t say it was the best time of my life, and honestly, it’s probably as far from being the best. I’ll admit there have been plenty of memorable moments, some funny and others absolutely embarrassing. Within those four years, I’ve found myself coming back to the idea of storytelling, something I’ve been obsessed with since I was a child.

Every person has a story, it’s just a matter of telling them. Some are pure fantasy created by their imagination, others are tales of their lives created by growing old. The last two years, I found the real reason behind wanting to write, something more than just ‘I’m good at it and enjoy it.’ Now, when I write, it is to share a story and hear them. I get it, sometimes it’s hard to get words out physically. I find myself stuttering over my words and growing slightly annoyed when I can’t pronounce a basic word I’ve said a dozen times before. But when people go to remember that conversation, the chances of them remembering it are slim. By putting those stories onto paper (or in this case, the internet), the stories stay there forever.

By the time this story is published, if my math is correct, it’ll be my 30th story published to the Eagle’s Tale. Each of those stories has been stared at for hours, reworded a dozen times, with the aim of being perfect. The beautiful thing about writing is that it can never be perfect; each has its own voice. Perhaps it’s about the bakery opening up, an informational piece on staying healthy, another’s story I helped put into words, or my own experiences. Stories are meant to be shared, to be enjoyed, or to be criticized.

I suppose the point I’m trying to make is to share your stories. With each memory, there is a story waiting to be shared. Whether it’s through words, photos, etc. Share your stories.